Lessons Learned
by zumie0
Summary: Under the tutelage of Voldemort himself, a young Bellatrix Black begins to understand the allure and power of the dark arts . . . and those who have mastered them.


Lessons Learned

"You have to mean it." The smooth voice said, calm and certain, yet lacking the reassurance that her teachers at Hogwarts had accosted her with whenever she had been the unwilling target of their advice. Bellatrix had always been a gifted student since she could recall, conquering the kinds of spells as a first year that a fourth year couldn't hope to comprehend. Within a week's time she had been the master of the Felix Felicis draught, and only a single sleepless night was needed to pass an examination on the Confundus Charm with flying colors. Bellatrix had been a quick study all her life; it was only now that she was beginning to question the idea that all magic could be quickly conquered. Never in 18 years had she been presented with a challenge of this magnitude.

The Imperius Curse was a different kind of magic. There was a forcefulness behind it that did not exist in any other spell, potion, or ancient rune that she had ever dealt with. She could feel the eyes of the Dark Lord upon her as she failed yet again to make the subject of her experimentation – an unwilling mouse this time, do exactly as she commanded. There was a sense that any difficulties on her part would not be met with encouragement, but with real consequences at the hands of the most powerful wizard to ever live. It was a concept that chilled her, yet left her pulse racing with a kind of excitement she had never had before in all her days as a Hogwarts student.

"M- My Lord," she began, feeling as if the words were choking her, "I assure you that I do mean this, th-there is nothing I take more seriously than the honor of being in your service."

"I do not doubt your commitment," he said. Her heart skipped a beat as he paused, "merely just your focus. Observe."

His black cloak billowed as he raised his arm from where it rested at his side. His long fingers curled around a masterfully carved wand crafted from bone whiter than his already pale skin. He focused intently on the mouse scurrying across the barren floor, as if targeting it with his mind. With a precise flick he declared, "Imperio."

The creature halted immediately in its frantic path and Voldemort's gaze turned back to Bellatrix. There was a confident glint in his eyes. While the scarlet color had unnerved her at first, she couldn't help but be mesmerized by it now – to be so one with magic as to be physically transformed by it, it was nothing but a testament to his abilities. After all, the unnatural color of his eyes and the deathly hue of his skin did nothing to underscore the dark hair and refined bone structure that marked him as undeniably handsome. Bellatrix fought the urge to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat as she diverted her gaze quickly away from him.

His eyes did not stray from her. As he swept his wand arm to the side, the mouse veered quickly that direction as well. "One must force themselves into the mind of their target. You have to know that you are in control, magic is merely a tool to convince them to relinquish their own."

No words were uttered, nor were any wand movements made, but the mouse began to run in a circular figure eight pattern that did not seem natural for such a creature. Its will now belonged to the man in the dark cloak holding it captive with the force of his magic alone.

The Dark Lord – she wasn't sure when it was that he began his rise, but she knew she had heard tales of him since the time of her childhood – just whispers in the beginning, stories of the man with the ambition to usher in a golden age for those of magical blood, and most importantly with the power to make that ambition a reality.

"Spells like these . . ." Voldemort began, his voice containing a hint of amusement, "are what those muggle-loving fools in the ministry fear, but only because they are afraid of their own inability to control them."

Bellatrix absorbed his words as if they were law. Her father, her cousins – all of them proud and influential men – had put themselves in his service. And the ancient and most noble house of the Blacks was not one to succumb to mere passing fashions. It had endured through its adherence to tradition; it's belief in its own solidarity. Even after the secrecy act that forced the magical world to cower from lesser beings, even after the powerful pureblood families had ceased to reign as a new unified ministry sprung up to tell their world to reject the same powerful spells that had made them like gods to those of inferior, her family had not faltered. They remembered a pureblood wizard's true place in society. It was no mere coincidence that a family like the Blacks had devoted themselves to him; if they could be so committed then surely he was the one who could deliver them back to their former glory.

"You are not afraid to master this magic, are you Bella?"

"My own wish is to do so My Lord!" she cried suddenly, hoping that the true scope of her desire to do just that could be conveyed in her declaration.

It was only expected that she too be loyal to the cause that her forbears had devoted themselves to. What was not expected however, was the way in which she had done so. She was a pureblood woman, it was only natural that she should marry another pureblood, have children to carry on their name, and teach them the way of things. Just as her mother had done. Just as her sister Cissa, only a second year, (whose betroval to the Malfoy boy had been established for quite some time now) was destined to do. Bellatrix Lestrange on the other hand, knew with the upmost certainty that she was no ordinary pureblood woman. For now, she was a student of true magic, the magic of her birthright, the kind that lesser wizards could not hope to master. Magic that made those mud-blood sympathizers and half bloods recoil in fear at the mere thought of its infinite uses. And the Dark Lord had chosen her as his only disciple. The thought filled her with pride; she was the only one who would come close to being his equal in power. . .

"Don't flatter yourself girl" his voice rang out sharply, reverberating off the cold stonewalls in the chamber in which they resided and freezing her in place. His unyielding gaze had not moved from her, and she remembered with a pang of dread the warning her cousin Regulus has issued about not allowing her thoughts to wander in his presence. It was only natural after all that someone like him would be a skilled Legimins.

"I have important matters to see to, and yet I find myself here teaching an entitled pureblood _girl_ how to cast a curse that is not exceptional but a _requirement_ to even be considered to join my ranks. Tell me Bella, am I wasting my time?"

"No my Lord! I simply need more practice!"

"Practice?" He countered, his tall figure drawing closer to her until they were only a few centimeters away from touching, "Then by all means girl, practice."

Bella raised her wand to the rat, unable to completely cease the trembling in her hands that would not leave her in her close proximity to the Dark Lord. "Imperio," she pleaded. The mouse wavered briefly, but did not adhere to the pattern of movement she begged for it to embark on.

Her master's voice continued in her ear, "I chose to teach you, and yet you can't even make a measly rat run in circles. I told you that one must force themselves to control the minds of others. If you can't master that with a rodent how could you possibly expect to control the conscious of a wizard?"

Bellatrix could feel the indignation begin to churn inside her at the insult. He could build her confidence with a mere nod of his head and destroy it again in an instant.

"Perhaps my efforts would be better spent on one your peers, there are many promising young men from Slytherin who have come of age recently – "

The comment turned her indignation into a searing anger. There was no one else who was better suited to be the Dark Lord's disciple than she! She envisioned the smirking face of her classmate Yaxley and the way in which he had boasted to their colleagues after the previous meeting of the Dark Lord's generosity for taking her on as his student. _Don't feel bad when you shame your family Black, only those with true power can serve him after all._

Her wand arm began to steady, her focus becoming sharper. She trained her energy on the worthless mouse on the floor, imagined how it would pay for making a fool out of her in front of her master. A memory flashed through her thoughts of a particular spell that would do the trick, one she had seen the Dark Lord himself inflict a number of times on anyone who dared to disobey him. She thought of Yaxley, and all the others, how they dismissed her potential, thought that she didn't belong amongst them, wanted her to fail. The words slipped from her tongue easily and as poisonous as venom. _"Crucio!"_

The mouse's body curled into itself, contorting at odd angles, it's squeaks shrill and desperate. She saw it's writhing form and imagined with glee that it was that of all those who stood in the way of her place amongst His ranks. A smile twisted across her beautiful features as she thought of how she wanted them – the muggles, the half bloods, the death eaters who looked down on her, to feel that pain at her hand. She imagined casting this same spell in the future, casting it one thousand times and meaning every syllable of it. She imagined casting it triumphantly at her Lord's side.

"That's enough Bella."

His voice startled her back into the present, her wand clattering to the floor several feet away from the unmoving body of the mouse. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest.

"Forgive me my Lord!"

"Do not fret my dear, Lord Voldemort is merciful," he practically hissed. A hand came to rest on her shoulder at his words, in what would normally have been a gesture of comfort from anyone else. Bellatrix had to force her mind to think about anything but the contact.

"Despite your disregard for my initial lesson," he spoke close to her ear, "It seems that in the process we have discovered your affinity for the Cruciatus Curse. This is a skill that is most valuable to me. We will continue with the Imperius curse next week." She dared not face him, her eyes glued to the floor as she felt him move away from her.

"Let's not try out what you've learned just yet, I need Yaxley for an important task soon after all."

And with an audible pop! He was gone. Bellatrix let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She raised her gaze to take in the cold surroundings of her classroom, noting the still mouse on the floor, and felt her future unfold before her.

"Anything for you My Lord."


End file.
